The Mirror Poem by chandani Mohan

It's unrelentingly truthful
Reflection
Magnifies my imperfections
In reflection
I agree with it's prediction

I know I will grow old
unsightly
The grey in the temples
Multiplies
All wrinkles joining forces
affectionately

Gravity is winning its long
battle
Expensive bottles of lotion
lie
They cannot be victorious.
Surrender!

I would grow old gracefully,
Dignified
My hair in a bun with it's
grayness now a flag of pride.